it's October. summer's corpse has just begun to turn.

Went to Cahokia Mounds Historic Site today and climbed Monks' Mound. pictured is St. Louis, and i also got a good view of the smokestacks of Alton IL, where my father's family first lived when they arrived in the States. somewhere in the tractless wastes between is where i live, and to the left of that somewhere is the Weldon Springs site--two earthen monuments separated by a short distance, vastly different in composition and intent.

i meditated briefly at the top and thought about place and permanence, how the indigenous people would have thought about time before the arrival of European colonists, about how they might have seen the universe in permanent cycles with change being an occasional anomaly; their world ensconced in an egg of eternity. i'm probably wrong about that. all i have are quasi-educated guesses.

looking out at the city in the distance, it occurred to me that this would be a great place to be to watch the nukes rain down. i'd have, what, three seconds of watching the bulidings crumble into ash and the Arch twisted up like a paperclip until the blast wave hit? what an amazing three seconds that would be...of course, knowing me, i'd be looking at my phone trying to pull up the "Koyannisqatsi" soundtrack, unable to remember if VLC sorted Philip Glass under "P" or "G" and i'd miss the whole thing. fwoosh.